Taking the Initiative
by Spooky Spice
Summary: Part of a story I wrote with a friend. I just tweaked it. :)


Title: Taking the Initiative  
  
Author: Spooky Spice  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: DRR  
  
Category: Break out the Triscuts b/c it's time for some CHEESE!!! Oh, and fluff. There's fluff here, too.  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Disclaimer: Doggett & Reyes belong to CC.  
  
Summery: Part of a story I wrote with a friend. I just tweaked it. :)  
  
Feedback: I'd get on my knees, but the floor's cold: spookyspice24@yahoo.com  
  
Archive: Come! Visit my site! Have a rousing good time!   
  
Author's Notes: Hi, my name is Spooky, and I like to RP. This is just a scene I found that I wrote down from an RP me and my friend Jennifer did over the summer. I figured I'd polish it up and put it out there. (This is while I work up the courage to post my one and only smutfic. It's a Star Trek one, so if you're a Voyager fan send me encouragement!)  
  
A/N 2: I know I refer to a case in here, but it's nothing specific. Create one in your imagination and make it horrible. We've all had weeks like that, right?  
  
A/N 3: I am also posting this in honor of today, March 17 b/c today is the 2nd anniversary of the airing of "Audrey Pauley". It's the episode that officially made me a Doggett/Reyes shipper. So go dig out your tapes b/c the DVD's don't come out for another month and some change and watch "Audrey Pauley" and celebrate the drippiness that is Doggett/Reyes!!!  
  
And Happy St. Patrick's Day!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I hung onto John's hand as we walked out of the Hoover building. I glanced up at the night sky. That was the one thing I didn't like about living in DC: you couldn't see the stars very well.  
  
"Whatcha lookin' at?" John asks quietly.  
  
"The stars. That's one of the problems about living here," I say. "You can't really see them."  
  
"What's another?" he asks. I look at him because I detected a note of hurt in his voice.  
  
"The traffic," I say with a grin. He smiles back.  
  
John lets go of my hand as we reach my car. We get in and he said "Want to order a pizza and watch a movie?"  
  
"Sure." I smile to myself. It had been such a hellish case. I guess he didn't want to be alone after all.  
  
It's a quiet ride back to my apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him glance at me occasionally. I wonder what he's thinking. Maybe he's attracted to me. That'd be nice. The last person who had been attracted to me—aside from every other male I came in contact with everyday—was Brad. And see how well *that* had turned out? He's my enemy *and* he's still obsessed with me.  
  
Unfortunately, as much as I'd like for something to happen with me and John, I think I'll stick with "just friends." (One of the most horrible phrases in ANY language.)  
  
I'll stick with it... as much as I'd like to take him to my bed tonight and make the hurt go away. If only for a little while.  
  
We arrive at my apartment and I reach for his hand again when we walk up to the front door. He looks at me oddly, but he lets it go without comment. Hey, I need some comfort, too.  
  
I let him in. "Make yourself at home," I tell him, flipping on the lights. I head towards the kitchen. "What do you want on it?"  
  
"Whatever you're having's fine," he calls back.  
  
"Okay." I call the pizza place and order a large, loaded. It'd be here in 30-45 minutes. "John, do you want a salad or something? Or do you want to be the manly man and do the pizza and beer thing?" I ask the last in a weird voice, trying to get a laugh out of him.  
  
Well, I definitely got *something* out of him.  
  
I hadn't heard him come up behind me as I was getting stuff out of the fridge. I kicked the door shut and turned around—and there he was behind me. I yelped in surprise. "John, what--?" then I see his eyes. He's looking at me with this incredibly intense gaze. My God, his eyes are blue. Beautiful.  
  
I was pinned by his gaze. I couldn't move if I wanted to. Wow... I never knew how powerful that "I am Special Agent John Doggett; don't even THINK of screwing with me" look was. Although, this is different. He's not angry or focused on the perp—he's focused on me. This was different, primal. Wow.  
  
"John...." I try to ask him what was wrong, but he grabbed my arms. Surprised, I dropped the tomatoes I was holding. He suddenly pushed me against the fridge, and I vaguely heard some of my magnets and pictures falling off.  
  
Then he kissed me. It was hard and desperate and passionate and borne out of spending three weeks in the mind of a monster. This was a reconnection to all that was human and decent and alive. He slid his tongue into my mouth and pressed into me. I could feel how much he wanted me. I closed my eyes and decided to enjoy this. I would have wrapped my arms around him, but he was holding on too tightly. So I lift my hands to cup his elbows.  
  
//This is wrong,// a tiny, mutinous voice whispered. //He's acting out of pain and loneliness, not because he's in love with you.// That saddens me.  
  
I try to get the upper hand on the situation by breaking our kiss, but he's too strong for me. Fortunately, he breaks it a moment later for air.  
  
Of course, he goes right for my neck.  
  
I managed to get a word out. It was either "John" or "God". I'm not sure. I didn't have the brain power to care.  
  
He nipped my neck with his teeth and a power shiver shot down my spine. It ended in places that have been sorely neglected for a while. It was a good thing he was holding me up because I would have fallen at that moment. And I *know* it wouldn't have been with my natural grace. Just THUD. Most of my higher brain functions are gone. I'm babbling something. Or moaning. I can't really focus.  
  
Then John pulls away. I can't do anything except breathe. I've never been more turned on in my life.  
  
He looks into my eyes. His are almost black.  
  
Breathe, Monica. Breathing is important.  
  
My heart is slamming in my chest so hard I pray I don't have a heart attack. Yeah, *there's* a mood killer. Not that I'd mind John saving my life. Hell, that's one of my favorite fantasies.  
  
"Monica," he finally gets out. His voice is so thick it's barely recognizable.  
  
"John," I whisper. "We can't do this. You're not thinking clearly. I know it's been a horrendous few weeks, but I don't want to do anything we'll regret tomorrow. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined us." I look away from his intense gaze and make the motions that I want to move away.  
  
But he doesn't let me go. His hands tightened on my arms—not enough to hurt, but just enough to let me know he has no intention of letting go.  
  
"John, please." I whisper again. I look back into his eyes and wait to see what he does next.  
  
"No."  
  
"What?"  
  
"No. I need this, Monica. I need you."  
  
Oh, wow. "You do?"  
  
He nods and smiles. "I know you do, too."  
  
"How...how do you know I do?" Ok, I really have to stop revealing my secrets.  
  
He steps closer and I'm looking up into his face. "I can tell, Monica. I can see it all the time in your eyes...especially when you're pretendin' to be workin' at your computer, but you're really checkin' me out."  
  
I blush. Didn't think I was *that* transparent. "You check me out, too."  
  
John grins, completely unremorseful. Nuzzling his nose to mine, he murmured "Makes you wonder how we resisted each other down there."  
  
I rub his back in an Eskimo kiss. "Makes you wonder how we're going to resist each other down there from now on," I murmur.  
  
He paused for a moment, a serious thought obviously entering his mind. Then he pulled back sharply, frustrated and angry. It catches me off guard. "John...?"  
  
"This isn't some cheap fling, Monica," he growls.  
  
"I know that, John. I'd never think it was."  
  
"If we do this, it's gonna be permanent. I don't want..." he paused. "I don't want to lose you."  
  
I step toward him. "And you won't. It's time to let go and stop being afraid, John. You're not Brad."  
  
"Damn right, I'm not," he muttered, looking away.  
  
I stroke his cheek (and his ego). "Focus on us, John," I purr. He looks into my eyes again, and I lower my lashes coyly. "I don't care about Brad." I kiss his chin. "I don't care about work." I kiss his jawline. "I don't care about what we were doing this past week." I kiss his cheek. "All I care about..." I kiss his nose, "is you..." his eyes, "and what" nip his earlobe, "I hope" I plant open-mouthed kisses on his neck and feel him groan, "you intend to do" I hover my lips in front of his, "to me tonight."  
  
He smiles softly and says "yeah, you're right." He kisses my forehead, then fingers a lock of my hair. "You want this?"  
  
"Yes," I whisper sincerely.  
  
"Good. So do I." He leans into kiss me and I open my mouth in response.  
  
Suddenly, I'm hoisted onto his shoulder. "JOHN!" I shriek. "Put me down!"  
  
"Not a chance, G-woman." He marches straight into my bedroom, and slams the door, my laughter echoing through the apartment.  
  
The End 


End file.
